


Hart on My Sleeves

by Ottermidnight



Series: Inside a Gentleman Wardrobe [3]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: ABBA's songs, Abstract art references, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Harry Hart is a Little Shit, Jealous Harry, Jealous Merlin, M/M, Original Kingsman Characters - Freeform, References to ABBA, Some Jackson Pollock's painting references, angst eggsy, gimme gimme gimme, take a chance on me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-10-22 23:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10707579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ottermidnight/pseuds/Ottermidnight
Summary: The sequel of 'Keen on Kilt'.When Harry, Merlin and Eggsy finally made it to the gala cocktail of the British Tailor Society. Eggsy felt left out and offended by Harry and Merlin, and he had a plan for revenge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been more than eight months since my last update on AO3.  
> It's time for a new chapter.
> 
> 'Gimme Gimme Gimme' by ABBA is the soundtrack of this fanfic.
> 
> *English is not my first language.  
> Forgive me for my grammar mistakes or tell me to fix them.*

Eggsy shifted the cab gear to park as the reflection of the Kingsman supporting unit appearing in the rearview mirror. Likewise, it was always a heartwarming relief to see them, no matter where he was in the world. They had saved his life more than a couple of times since the beginning of his career in espionage. 

It would not be over exaggerated to say Eggsy would not be sitting in the dead cabbie seat right at the moment if it wasn’t because of the Kingsman supporting unit. He would long ago be dead and gone like the cabbie he tossed out of the cab a moment ago. Thus,  he found it was extremely uncomfortable to sit any longer on the  _ bloody _ seat, thinking about the man and his crush-opened skull. The longer Eggsy stayed in the seat, the more his stomach cringed in the familiar way he could not explain. It made his mind sick with the familiar unsettledness.

There was that one time when Eggsy was invited to the London mansion of a Russian oil oligarch whose name Eggsy had long forgotten. But the peculiar facts about the man held their respectable position  in Eggsy’s hippocampus. 

He remembered the Russian oligarch was a devoted art collector and he was also the  man that picked a silly word as ‘pony’ to be his English safeword in bed from the cover of his three-year-old daughter  _ ‘My Little Pony’ _ colouring book on his bedside table where she left it haphazardly. Therefore, Eggsy had always referred to this Russian oligarch as  _ ‘Little Pony’ _ . At least, Eggsy thought it was the most adorable moniker for a 6 ft 7 sturdy hairy Russian godfather with four 24k golden front teeth and covered in gangster tattoos at the age of forty-two could have. _Seriously._

_ Little Pony _ had all walls in his living room converted into the sacred sanctuary of his favourite artist, Jackson Pollock. Even without any extensive knowledge in all modern art and their values, Eggsy could tell that every painting was pricey and he had no doubt in the Russian man exclusive taste on abstract art, but the man preference on the safeword in bed was left to be questionable.  

The party was private and small, held inside the mansion. Merlin elaborately squeezed Eggsy in the list of the thirty-two entertainers and that was how he got a chance to study each of Mr. Pollock’s painting closely. In fact, he got so close at the distance that allowed him to observe the complexion of every pigment splashes and make any art curator shudder and shout at him to back off the paintings with horror at once. 

After a long moment of thorough observation, Eggsy had made a conclusion on Jackson Pollock’s paintings and thought his baby sister was by far a better artist than the man.

If he had recalled it correctly, the painting was ‘ _ Out of the Web’ _ , painted in 1949, long before Eggsy was born. He found the pattern of the colours hectic and conventional. Splashes of the multiple colours seemed to be going in some direction, going somewhere, but they were everywhere. And they did not make a bloody sense to Eggsy. 

Like the chunky strawberry jam on a piece of burned toast. The red splash of the cabbie brain, blood, and flesh spread on the tarmac by the mighty force in every direction resembled the homogeneity that Eggsy could recall. He closed his eyes down and took a couple of deep breaths.

He had been told many times by Harry, ‘Art is not supposed to be beautiful or make any sense, it is supposed to make you feel something.’ And as the matter of fact, Eggsy did feel something, an agitation in his stomach, like a direct punch landed on his spleen more so. He felt sick and imbalanced. He rose his sweaty hand up to wipe his face. 

Eggsy was coming down from the adrenaline rush with an unsettling in his stomach. He stared at the watch on his wrist. It was half past midnight. The images of colours randomly scattering abstract pattern mixed up with the cabbie skull crushed easily under the wheel and a ripened watermelon got ran over by a car on repeat. 

_ ‘Half past twelve,  _

_ And I’m watching the late show in my flat all alone.  _

_ How I hate to spend the evening on my own.’ _

Eggsy felt light-headed with his hands still clenching around the wheel and eyes shut tight. All the red crimson mess rushed to him in slow motion with the song ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’ by ABBA playing as the original soundtrack of the current moment.

_ ‘Autumn winds,  _

_ Blowing outside my window as I look around the room. _

_ And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom. _

_ There’s not a soul out there. No one to hear my pray.’ _

“You alright?” Eggsy did not turn to check his lovers in the backseat as he asked. They were fine when he last checked, practicing how to suck the soul out of each other mouth. 

“A’rry? Merlin?” Instead of getting an answer, Eggsy heard soft moans and pantings. ' _ Are they seriously making out in the backseat without him?' _ ,  Eggsy wondered.

_ ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme a man after midnight. _

_ Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away? _

_ Gimme Gimme Gimme a man after midnight. _

_ Take me through the darkness to the break of the day.’  _

Neither it was because Merlin was lying breathlessly on the top of Harry with his kilt hung around his ankle nor Harry was cleaning the cum on his right hand with Eggsy’s favourite handkerchief that he mistaken for his own and put it in his lapel pocket before they all left the house in the evening did upset Eggsy.

_ ‘Movie stars find the end of the rainbow, with a fortune to win. _

_ It’s so different from the world I’m living in.’ _

He, Sir Galahad had missed out all the adventures. Not one but two adventures. To begin with the telltale of a Scottish mighty warlord horse-riding journey to the glory and followed by the classical tale of the age of chivalry. King Arthur and Excalibur, the worthy rightful sovereignty pulls the magic sword from the hard rock. The quests ended before he could be a part of them. 

_ ‘Tired of T.V. _

_ I open the window and I gaze into the night. _

_ But there’s nothing to see, no one in sight. _

_ There’s not a soul out there. _

_ No one to hear my pray. _ ’

The mushy corpse on the tarmac, Jackson Pollock’s paintings and being neglected by his lovers almost too much for him. Eggsy dismissed himself out of the cab for some cooler air that did not smell like sex and sweat to clear his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, but this chapter pretty short and not much going one. Nevertheless, I see it a good start of coming back to finish the whole fic. I tried to edit some more of my raw text for this chapter, but I'm having a fever and on medication. I promise you for a longer one next chapter. 
> 
> Anyway, this is my Halloween treat for you.

Counted by the timer on Merlin’s watch, the Kingsman’s supporting escort arrived 4.52 minutes after the black Porsches were turned into scraps worth a couple quids at best. Merlin made a mental note on his agenda to call for a meeting. The unit should have arrived 1.22 minutes earlier. He needed to have a word with the head of the supporting escort tomorrow on why the escort was 1.22 minute late. A full written report on the agenda was mandatory. In their line of their profession, every second does matter, it could distinguish between life and death, and there should be no compromise with  Kingsman standard.

 

Ever since Harry Hart was Arthur everything and everyone seemed to be affected by his tardiness. Apples never fall far from the tree and knights always follow their king. Who could have predicted that the tardiness was contagious and it would spread in Kingsman like the hideous plague in the Medieval European history? Harry would be the only reason why Merlin would meet the death earlier, started from his hair and certainly, Merlin knew it would only be the matter of time before his turn.

 

Fortunately, Merlin was immune to the sickness, but, unfortunately, he was the only one and he had to deal with the rest of the Kingsman that was all infected. The poor quartermaster had thought about making a vaccine out of his blood and inject everyone Kingsman and the vector itself. Perhaps, if every villain in the world decided to take a two-week long holiday at the same time, he might stand a chance to succeed with his plan. 

 

Merlin already got a full plate. Being the Kingsman’s quartermaster was a full-time job. It was his life 24/7. When the duty called,  He would have his agents’ arses to save usually a dozen of times in a day. Secret agents were notoriously known for their craving of danger like it is a part of their nature, but getting themselves out of all sorts of danger is another thing. That was why they were dependent on their quartermaster and his army of sugar-caffeine addicted minions to save their arses. All the time in the world that was all Merlin had ever needed. 

 

The supporting unit arrived with what seemed to be another black London cab, but it was no ordinary cab. It was Kingsman armored and armed cab that would later be the new ride for Harry, Eggsy and Merlin to the gala cocktail. The cab they sat in previously could have made it to the gala, but what would the rest of the British Tailor Society think of them, if they three arrived in a cab full of bullet holes, shattered windows and bloodstains on the seats and their suits?  

 

If someone had a close look at the three of them, starting with Merlin, they would have thought he was still ‘ _ approachable’ _ even with a bullet graze on his cheek, if not more so ‘ _ delectable’. _ The bleeding from the cut had stopped and added more dynamic. A touch of roughness on his visage. It made he looked like a dangerously sexy Italian mobster. Then there was dashing Eggsy in the suit painted red by blood. The latest trend of this season back prints inspired by Rorschach inkblot test. And the last and the only damn well presentable bastard among the three, Harry fucking Hart. Despite, his slightly disheveled hair after the search of the Excalibur in Merlin’s kilt. He looked almost bloody perfect. How could he manage to be so damn presentable was a puzzle that even Merlin could not solve?

They were  _ so _ much of ‘ _ operating at the highest level of discretion’,  _ ain't it?

  
Their current looks might have made a buzz, if Kingsman were trying to work their way in the dapper goth-rock-punk market and a goth-sabbath meet The Godfather, they were on the right track. Sadly, that would not happen in Harry-regime. Though Harry had gone undercover as a punk in a studded black leather jacket with overabundant zippers and black eyeliner on more than two occasions, but he would never let it happen to the brand, to the Kingsman.  _ Over his sodding dead Arthur title arse. _ Imagine all the complaints and complains he would have to listen to his ancestors if he happened to run into any of them in hell. A genuine ultimate suffering for eternity shook down his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get the rest follow ASAP.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy was still glum.  
> Merlin was furious.  
> Harry was being a little shit like always (At least in my fanfics).  
> Some more original Kingsman characters and more ABBA song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter a little bit quicker than I had expected. A half of it was written during my boring office hours.  
> Thank you for being patient with me, here is a pretty long chapter (long my standard anyway.)
> 
> Warning: This chapter was self-beta and English is my third language so if any mistake bothers you, please tell and I will fix it for you.

A medic came to treat the bullet scratch Merlin’s cheek, she was a young lass about Eggsy's age with a long ginger ponytail. Merlin had seen her around before, but they hadn’t spoken. The lass examined the cut carefully. Her eyes got soften when she was sure the cut was merely what it seemed to be. She cleaned the cut and was about to put a plaster on it when Merlin grabbed her wrist and said, “I don't need that.”

 

“But, sir.” She retorted, holding the plaster ready for the bandaging up.

 

“The plaster would draw more attention. I will say I cut myself while shaving.” She looked at him and nodded in understanding. Though, she knew most people would have a hard time believing he earned the cut from shaving. For one, it was not likely to get the cut at such an odd angle, about a centimeter below cheekbone close to his ear. Two, mankind had invented the thing so called _‘ **safety razor’** _ decades ago. Three, he might just get away with an excuse of being an old-fashioned gentleman who fancied a straight razor, but how could not make a cut like that?

 

Eventually, she lowered her bandage and did not press her thought number one to three forward, least not with Merlin. She had heard quite a handsome amount of Merlin’s eerie anecdotes from his minions, especially what he did to his knights when they crossed the line or disobeyed him. She began to pack her kit away without another word and left.

 

Merlin took out his phone and began typing tomorrow new agendas on his calendar. He did not put in many thoughts on the surrounding around him. The Kingsman escort unit had secured the perimeter and he knew no one would come up and speak to him unless it was something necessary. That was why it took him by surprise to hear a voice offering him tobacco. “Care for some nicotine after an adrenaline rush?” Merlin looked up and saw Harry standing in front of him, presenting a line of exquisite hand-rolled cigarillos in an antique distorted silver box.

 

Merlin stared at the cigarillos and then the box that contained them like he was trying to figure out something or maybe remember something he had long forgotten. He opened his mouth but closed it was almost instantaneously in disbelief.

 

“Ye must be joking.” Merlin finally murmured under his breath when he opened his mouth on the second attempt to speak. He remembered it now. “I must say I didn’t expect neither to see it again nor to see you use it again. This feels like a _**déjà vu** _ **.** ” Merlin had a delightful tint of surprise in his voice. He shook his head in disbelief and took one roll out.

 

There was no doubt that the case was beautiful even the engraved **‘FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE’** started to fade, small dents, bumps and scratches everywhere along the surface. It could have been an antique or a trinket of a family if Merlin had not known its past history as well as he did.

 

The thought that he would not get to see the silver cigarette box again and here it was in Harry’s palm. Perhaps, it gained the power to cheat death from Harry, after all, it was Harry who gave him this silver case thirty-three years ago. It was in Merlin’s pocket ever since then until the Bucharest Affair took place about a year ago. It was an operation that almost landed itself in the worst case scenario. Kingsman took a big risk, larger than what they had prepared themselves for, by sending Merlin on an undercover mission. It was a big bet to send the quartermaster into the field, right at the heart of the enemy territory, but Merlin was the only man for this mission. Everyone included Harry and Eggsy opposed the operation. “It was Mad.” Said Harry. “It’s suicidal.” Said Eggsy. And Merlin listened to none of them, he understood the risk and priority, but that did not make the mission less dangerous on any scale. His cover was blown and he almost got hung along with the rest of his team. If it was not because of the terrorist boss took him as a prisoner after he learned Merlin’s true identity and his value from his mouthy contact. Loyalty was a complicated ideal. It could either earn or buy. You could run test after test on your people like asking them to shoot their own beloved dogs or throw your best friend since childhood in a gigantic meat mincer and so on and on, but you could never be sure when your ally would shake hand with the devil and point their guns at you. People were the hardest asset to manage said by almost everyone who had experiences in Human Resource management.

 

The terrorist thought they could bargain with the Kingsman. The deal was to trade five of his underlings in the British government custody and one billion euro in cash in exchange for the Kingsman’s quartermaster. They thought they were being fair or if not, generous to the Kingsman. They said they could have asked for more, like they already knew by heart that any price would be fair for the Kingsman to bring their beloved quartermaster home in one piece which they were quite right, but not at the degree of Merlin’s value could be measured and exchanged in figure and five war criminal lives.

 

To _**Harry and Eggsy a**_ ** _ny price was fair to bring Merlin home_**. The trio was bond and committed to one another in the way most people would never fathom. Not only they were willing to risk their lives and take lives to save others, there were so much more than that. And later on, the terrorist learned their lesson of their lives at the cost of their lives. Harry and Eggsy made sure everyone involved with the Bucharest Affair got their message clear. No prisoners were taken into custody after the operation.

 

“You know I thought about giving it back to you.” Harry was not sure Merlin would want the deformed silver cigarillo box back. It had carried tobacco and stories, all the good ones and the bad ones on its shiny scratchy surface. “Or put it away as I would never be able to bring myself to throw the first present I ever gave to you away.” Harry’s words were true, partly true. Harry would not have a bone to throw it away, but not only because he was so attached to this silver cigarillo box. It was obvious that Harry had no bone to throw anything away. Harry was a glorified collector who would keep everything he had ever claimed as his, a quality of a clingy lover and a hoarder.

 

“Of course, ye have a heart for all the craps in the world. A bloody ace heart of gold.” Mr. Pickle was a perfect example. Why else would someone have stuffed their dog in the loo after it died? If you were not an A-class hoarder. Merlin thought Harry seriously needed to learn how to let go.

 

“Not quite so.” Harry put a cigarillo between his lips then fetched for the Kingsman pink gold hand-grenade lighter that he idly picked from the new weaponry collection to match with the pairing of the stag head cufflinks, the symbol of his family he wore tonight. He took the lighter out of his pocket and skillful flipped it to the normal lighter mode in one smooth clever move with his right thumb and index finger. The light flickered a little in the night breeze.

 

It required more than handful times of relentless practice to light a cigarette or in this case, a cigarillo accurately without activating the lighter’s grenade function. Even for a born gentleman like Harry Hart also needed the practice to make the suave move like the one he just did in front of Merlin. Mistakes could happen at any time. There was that one time Harry clumsily activated the lighter hand-grenade and set the half of NATO’s headquarter building in Brussels on fire. It was a mistake he would bring it to his grave with him. No one knew about it. The story took place back in the late 70’s when Kingsman glasses still had only the radio transmitter and mic installation. With the storytelling skill he was born with, Harry came up with a plausible story and blamed it all on the assassination attempt on world’s leaders at the peace conference. Incredulously, no one was injured in the explosion and Harry swore not to tell a living soul about the most humiliating incident. What happened in Brussel stayed forever with him.

 

Harry bought the flame to lit the end of the cigarillo between Merlin’s lips as a gentleman should always light his partner cigarette before his own. Merlin took a long lungful drag, relishing tannin from the exotic blended of Java-Caribbean tobacco. The taste kicked in Merlin’s nostril. It was not pungent yet sweet like Merlin did expect. Merlin closed his eyes to concentrate on the complexity of smoke and flavour. The smoke was light with the right body for pleasurable lingering inside his mouth and nose. The combination of the refreshing raindrops of a tropical forest and creamy rich coconut rum on the sunset beach in one puff.

 

“Heavens…” Merlin moaned, exhaling the excessive smoke out before he went straight for the second puff. Harry watched his lover then chuckled amusingly. “Wait for me, love.” Ignoring the lighter in his hand, Harry leaned in to touch the tip of his unlit cigarillo with Merlin’s hot red-hot end. Their eyes met. Merlin saw the manifest sparkle of mischief in Harry’s eyes. **‘** ** _Lord help us all!’_** Harry Hart had a plan for tonight. Whatever it would be, Harry would not tell him, not even if he asked him. But soon enough, the plan would be unveiled. Merlin hoped he would not have to start praying to God he had never believed in before the end of the night. So far the car chasing was already plenty on his plate for one supposed to be a tedious night out.

 

“Save the gas for the sake of the environment.” Harry justified as his cigarillo was lit. He made two short puffs without taking in the smoke to ensure the cigarillo was evenly burning. Cigarillos were smaller than cigars. It was a preferable luxurious outdoor smoking choice for when you wanted to be classy with a limited time frame to burn.

 

“Ye know you can stop spoiling my mood on purpose by biting yer _**clever**   _tongue and swallowing it down.” Merlin gave Harry a look which could only be described as **_Sod off_ ** _._

 

“If I did bite my **‘** _ **clever’**   _tongue off and swallow it down, no one would miss it more than you. Or perhaps, Eggsy would miss it too.” Merlin snorted aloud, hindering the blissful sweet memories of all the services he had received from Harry’s tongue since they began dating. Realized that he lost in this retoration, Merlin let out a dozen of example various colourful Scottish swearings that Harry did not understand at least a half of them.

 

“My, my dear, Hamish. Where is all your manner? Who has taught you to swear like a sailor? I’m sure it wasn’t me, of course.” A rich familiar baritone redundant, full of mockery and indignation announced from behind Merlin back. There stood a man in the mid-sixty with a murderous glance through his monocle cast upon Merlin. He was two inches shorter than Merlin, pretty chubby body, and thick grey hair. The man was happened to be Archibald who went by Archie, a senior in the Kingsman tailor department who indeed was one of a genuine tailor with a Ph.D. Chemical Engineering and Merlin’s uncle.

 

“Knobdobber! You’ve ruined my masterpiece again.” Archie sighed. It broke his heart every time he saw his masterpiece of tailoring reduced into rags. “I’m so disappointed in you, Hamish. When will you grow up? The kilt is our Scottish pride. Not some of kinky prop to satisfy your obscene roleplay.” First, Merlin thought his uncle was either talking about the bloodstain on his chest or the ripped seam in his left armpit, but once his eyes followed Archie’s right index finger pointing at a dried stain on his kilt, Merlin wanted to die. **_Mortified to death_ ** would be written on his grave. There was a dried mucous stain sized about two-pound coin on the peat of his kilt.

 

**_Harry, you, son of a bitch._ **

 

It had happened to be not only Eggsy, but also Merlin who needed a new outfit. While Harry would need only a dash of pomade to look brand new and shine again like he hadn’t got into a car chasing and a gunfight.

 

Merlin turned his head instantly to shot Harry a fatal-ready-to-rip-him-into-piece look. Harry innocently ignored the _look_ and greeted Archie. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks since Archie took two weeks off from work to Havana with two of his most favourite boy toys, and just came back to work yesterday. The hint of the Caribbean suntan could be seen on his skin. Merlin looked oddly resembled Archie, but much paler and taller.

 

“Evening, leannan Harry.” Merlin rolled his eyes at the choice of word and tooth-rotten sweet tone _his uncle_ picked to address _his husband._ Merlin wanted to throw up. Archie was always too sweet and too flirty around his nephew's husband as Harry Hart was his muse. But being flirty was Archie’s nature. If someone put the names of Archie’s ex-lovers into a list, the list would exceed the length of the Nile river.

 

Harry leaned over to air-kiss Archie’s cheeks. But Archie drew him into a bone-crushing hug. Harry looked awkward and dumbfounded. Both of his arms froze in the air and off guarded. Before Harry could return the hug, Archie utilised the situation to grab hold of Harry’s firm arse. Harry startled and his eyes went wild. Merlin saw everything but he could not do anything to prevent.

 

“Did you just pinch at my husband’s arse again?” It was not something that had not happened before. It had happened far too often than Merlin wanted. He felt like a fool. He never considered himself as a jealous type as he was Harry and Eggsy’s handler, navigating them through missions in every sense, even in the biblical sense. He could not have done that if he was a jealous type, was not he? But there were some boundaries and limits he needed to hold on by his standard.

 

“Did I?” Archie answered Merlin inquiry with another question. He tried to play naive merely to tease Harry and Hamish and he did not want to ditch the opportunity to grope his muse perfect arse. “THIS ISN'T FUNNY.” Merlin rose his voice to the point where he was almost yelling. Archie let go of Harry’s arse and moved his arms to wrap around the other man shoulders amiably. Everyone stopped doing what they were doing and turned to look at the three of them. Rarely, anyone heard their quartermaster who was always calm in life-threatening circumstance rising his voice like this. The only two persons that did not surprise were Harry and Archie. To Harry, the night had just begun to get better. Harry had to conceal a satisfying grin. Nothing could be sexier than possessive and jealous Merlin. It looked like the luck was on his side, he might also get fucked by Merlin. It happened sometimes. It was not that Harry minded that he always had to be on the top. Once in awhile, he liked to losing control and be fully under Merlin or Eggsy’s command, the two persons he had trusted the most. They had never let him down and always taken such a good care of him.

 

“Relax, Hamish. It was just a friendly greeting gesture.” Despite, being proud of the man Hamish had grown up to be, Merlin of the Kingsman, Hamish would always be his little nephew. Archie looked as calm as nothing had happened between them. Merlin’s hostility had no effect on him. He never thought Merlin was intimidating. Mainly, because he changed Merlin’s diapers and watched him growing up. One is not going to be afraid of a puppy because it has fully grown. That would be absurd. “Besides, I know it by heart who's your crooked Hart belongs to.” Now it was Harry’s turn to rolled his eyes. Of course, it had to be his last name pun again.

 

“It’s such a shame that I’m completely not your type. If I were bald, I might have stood a chance to win your insufferable kinky heart.” Archie pointed his finger right at where Harry’s heart was to add some more dramatic effect to his words. Harry nodded quietly, carefully not to add any more oil to the fire. He only wanted to make Merlin get jealous, not to kill him, and he was going to stick with this plan for the rest of the night.

 

“But if you ever change your mind, I’m a first in line, Honey. I’m still free. Take a chance on me, will you Harry?” Archie sang his favourite line of ABBA’s ‘Take A  Chance On Me’ and winked his left wrinkled eye at Harry. He tried his best not to laugh right at Archie’s face for being completely ridiculous and shameless. Archie never gave up on anything in life as long as he was still breathing he would keep going even with the slimmest possibilities, he did not care.

 

“Weel, I think it is the time I must excuse myself and go to see my favourite Egg.” He pretended to be concerned at the time on his watch, looking for some excuse to dash off. “And where is my favourite Egg anyway?” Harry looked away with a rather regretful puppy-eyed at the direction where Eggsy was sitting on the pavement with the phone in his hands, texting Roxy about how awful tonight was. He took his jacket off but still wore the bloody shirt because he had nothing else to change into. The lad seemed tired. The colour was gone from his face and so as the enthusiasm that usually was there in his green emerald eyes.  

 

“Hamish! What have you done to Eggsy this time?” Poor Eggsy looked wrecked from threw up twice after he got out of the taxi. But none of Harry or Merlin knew about Eggsy being sick as they were caught up in the smoke and taste of cigarrillo. Eggsy felt ever more neglected when the chill wind of the night dug through his blood-soaked shirt.

 

“Me?” Merlin was offended. **_Why it always had to be him?_ ** Like the world said just blame it all on him when something had gone wrong because he was the freaking quartermaster. "Why don’t you just asked him. I’m just another victim here so as Eggsy.” Merlin pointed at Harry, but Archie's eyes did not follow his finger. Both of his uncle's eyes were busy on studying Eggsy. He was not one of the knights and never went into the field, but he was not a less of a Kingsman material than others. He knew Eggsy was upset and in need of someone to be by his side. Only a blind man would not be able to see that. Archie looked at Merlin and Harry then he shook his head then sighed. **_Or, perhaps, make it two blind men._ ** It almost broke Archie’s heart to see a pretty creature in a such a devastating state. Eggsy deserved all the love in the world right now. And he was willing to give all of his to him. If it was all up to him, he would wanted to get the lad out of that shirt, once was another masterpiece of his art, and offer him a drink and comfort he must be in needed.

 

“Get change. You’re running out of time.” He said in the commanding voice rather than a suggestion before dashed off to where Eggsy was.

 

Harry, Merlin and Eggsy had just a little under twenty minutes to get to the gala. It would take minimum twenty minute so they were running late. But since number one, no one really cared about arriving on time, and since number two, tardiness is one of Harry Hart’s trademark in both lines of his career, the espionage and the tailoring. If you had known Harry more than his given name and family name, you would expect him to be late for everything from a small casual meeting to a trillion pounds business or even his own wedding. Even though, this time it was not entirely Harry’s fault.

 

_“If you’ve got no place to go,_

_if you’re feeling down._

_If you’re all alone when the pretty birds have flown._

_Harry, I’m still free, take a chance on me.”_

 

A soft hum of the song could be heard in the night breeze. It was not totally unpleasant melody. Archie managed to hit every key and note right where it should be as he made his way to help Eggsy out of the misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are welcome :)
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter. Stay-turned for the next one.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I will be able to post the next chapter by the end of next week.  
> I have written more than half of the whole story.  
> All it needs is some polish.  
> Stay with me.
> 
> Kudos and comments are welcomed.


End file.
